432,000 Seconds
by Sillycritter
Summary: "Because, you know, that's exactly how we all die: alone." Rick reflects on his speech at Bird Person's wedding, before the unthinkable occurred. {Spoilers} for Season 2 Finale, "The Wedding Squanchers". Rated T for language.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Rick and Morty".

 **Author's Note:** I was in a strange mood when I wrote this one. Not sure where it came from, but felt I just had to get it out. I think it was stewing ever since I'd seen that heartbreaking finale, and I've been wanting to do something to give Rick some kind of peace. Because I felt that he deserved some kind of closure from that whole traumatic experience. This kind of thing would probably never happen on the show but I was compelled to make it happen, no matter how OOC it seems. This is what I've come up with. Spoilers for the Season 2 Finale, "The Wedding Squanchers". I've written it in Bird Person's honor, as well as to anyone that Rick Sanchez has lost along the way...

It isn't pretty.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Five days...120 hours...432,000 seconds...

Soon it would be 144 seconds since Bird Person's body had been pummeled with bullet holes, staining his wedding suite with dark crimson; blood oozing out of his various orifices...

...leaving two soulless dead eyes staring Rick straight in the face...

...eyes that should have never looked into the woman he loved with complete trust and unconditional love...

eyes that had seen so much more than Rick had ever seen or would see.

For Bird Person was ancient, older than he'd ever let on to anyone, even Rick-his most trusted comrade in the Fight for Freedom against the Intergalactic Federation. They'd fought many battles side by side; seen many a comrade die in action. Nothing, however, would prepare Rick for this moment: the same moment he'd decided to give people a chance. To pour his heart out in front of complete strangers, fumbling as he'd stood there and gave his half-assed wedding speech, only to ditch the notes altogether and speak straight from his soul. He'd spoken in earnest, told Bird Person he approved of his choice of mate for life. That devil of a woman, that diabolical backstabber. That...that...that...murder, Tammy, who had poised herself as an innocent high school girl from Earth who was in love with a bird creature from another world.

"SO romantic," they'd all said. "How perfect!" they'd said.

Now they all knew: you put your trust in someone, and they let you down. Bird Person had trusted that...unspeakable creature...only to be murdered in cold blood on his wedding day. Rick didn't care for weddings. In fact he hadn't even wanted to be there. But Bird Person had been there for him in the past when no one else had. And so, he'd removed the mask he'd held onto for so long...if just for but a moment...

...and Bird Person smiled.

The crowd clapped with pleasure.

The vows were spoken...

...and then, from out of nowhere, a war had broken out in plain view: guns going off, Bird Person dead on the floor, Morty and the rest hiding somewhere out of view.

If it hadn't been for Squanchy-good ol' Squanch-man-Rick wouldn't have had the time to flee (like the coward he was) with the rest of his pathetic little family to the ship that would take them to freedom.

So here they were, on this tiny pathetic Earth-like dwarf planet, everyone miserable and homesick, Rick's secret identity out in the open, hiding out from the Intergalactic Federation police and scrounging desperately for the next meal.

One afternoon, the rest of the family was out hunting while Rick worked in the small shed behind the cabin they were living in, tinkering on a measly makeshift version of what he hoped would become a working portal gun. He'd gathered different items he'd found (metals, powders, and other natural elements) to try to create his ticket to true freedom. (In a word, "escape".)

As usual, he couldn't stop hearing the words of his stupid speech playing over and over again in his head.

 _"...so, at a certain point, you gotta ask yourself: what are the odds this is legit, and not just some big lie we're all telling ourselves because we're afraid to die alone?"_

There was his answer, staring him right in the face the whole time...

 _"Because you know, that's exactly how we all die: alone."_

He saw Bird Person dead on the floor of his own reception hall, bathed in a pool of his own blood.

 _"But-but! Here's the thing."_

There was no going back now.

 _"Bird Person is my best friend."_

What exactly did friendship mean, anyway? He'd betrayed Bird Person, too; he'd thrown the same party that had brought Tammy into his life...the same party that had taken Bird Person away from him. He'd lured the devil into their lair. Their sanctuary. His own home.

 _"And...if he loves Tammy.."_

His fingers curled around the cold steel wrench in his trembling hand.

 _"...well, then I love Tammy too."_

He shut his eyes against the harsh light of the fading sun and ground his palms deep into the workbench below him.

 _"To Friendship..."_

Fuck friendship.

 _"to Love..."_

Only let you down.

 _"And to my greatest adventure yet: opening myself up to others!"_

An unearthly scream met his eardrums and when he opened his eyes, he saw blood on his hand...as he tore his hand from the wall. The wrench was nowhere to be seen and all his items were scattered all over the floor.

The gunshots resounded in his ears as Rick slid to the floor, his breath hitched, panting wildly. What was he doing? This wasn't his home. He was a fucking anomaly. He belonged nowhere. To no one. Even when he was in a room full of people-even carbon copies of himself-he was utterly, ultimately, and completely alone.

"NO!" The word erupted from the core of his soul as he lifted his face to the Heavens.

There was no God, and everyone he'd ever really trusted was dead.

 _What was his purpose? Was there even a purpose to all this? All this...hate, and carnage, and destruction, and...death...?_

The small smile of pride that had filled Bird Person's unusually hopeful face filled his vision.

Rick hadn't noticed the tears on his cheeks until he tasted the salt on his tongue...

...and the last thread he'd fought so hard to keep together snapped, and his seemingly impervious body broke wretchedly into sobs.

There was nothing to lose anymore. All his old friends were gone. Squanchy, probably dead...killed for having sacrificed himself for his friend, for those not even his own blood...

He could pretend to forget how to love...but dammit, it seemed that no longer how hard Rick tried, he just couldn't seem to forget how to _feel_. Of all the endless possible species in the universe, and he had to be the one who relied on emotion in order to survive. Stupid petty selfish _humans_.

He hardly noticed the gentle tap on his shoulder, or the shadow of another's presence behind him in the room; he was lost in a sea of unwanted memories and feelings he'd thought had long since been buried.

And then Morty's arms were wrapped around him. Holding him tight, like a lifeline pulling him in from dangerous waters, and he felt his shell breaking even further as he let the boy cradle him like a father would his son.

"G-get off me." He was shaking so hard he didn't have the strength to push the boy away.

"No." Morty was nothing if not stubborn.

"D-d-dammit! I s-s-s-said get the hell AWAY from me!" He felt himself burning with an unchartered rage, felt himself raising a fist towards the boy, threatening, wavering, wondering...would he? Could he...actually...?

"NO." Morty sat still on the floor, looking him right in the eye. "I'm not going anywhere Rick."

What had happened to the boy's stutter? Where had this newfound confidence, this young man come from?

"I-I-I mean it, M-m-m-Morty..." He raised his hand higher.

"Grandpa...?" Morty's eyes were watching him from afar, painfully innocent and filled with unshed tears.

His hand paused mid-flight, the title putting a dent in his shield.

"...I love you," Morty whispered.

His hand dropped to his side as Morty rushed forwards and threw his arms unabashedly back around him, nearly choking him in the process. Perhaps he'd explode from embarrassment. Instead, Rick felt his shoulders relax, and a curious warmth take over him, and he felt his shaking subside. He felt his fists begin to finally loosen their death grip on his own palms. He felt his chest rise and fall at a steadier pace.

He sat on the cold cement floor with his grandson holding him tight around the waste, nestled into him, trusting him, being there with him. There was something unsettling about physical affection that Rick had never been able to accept. But here, in Morty's embrace, suddenly, things felt strangely...

...Dare he say it...?

...But it wasn't possible...

it couldn't be possible...

...yet maybe...

...could it even be...

...possibly...

 _home_.


End file.
